Chapter 1

When the ship made port I knew that my father had indeed
returned. I watched the docks from my bed chamber, staring into the darkness
while the bells’ chiming resonated through the misty port. Only the moonlight
and dock lanterns that reflected off the black water’s surface illuminated the
marina.

But even throughout all the
black and mist my father’s flag held attention, a display of sheer prominence.
A duel headed lion with a serpent entangled between the two was his emblem. An
image designed for him long ago by a Spanish traveler he’d met while out at
sea, a man by the name of Jorge Santoyo. Or, at least, that’s what he’d told
us. My father’s name was famous or rather infamous for his stories. Some
brought him the attention he craved as the town’s affluent fisherman while
others just got him into trouble; with his flamboyant approach usually doing
more harm than good.

He’d been away just shy of two weeks now leaving me and my
young brother, James, to fend for ourselves. He’d forced me into a life of the
cloth at my mother’s request upon
her death bed. She’d loved him, but she’d seen his folly then as I do now. I’d
taken to the good book faithfully and was underway into becoming a minister for
our local church- the youngest in history- with my little brother, James,
closely following in my footsteps.

This seemed unknown to my father or rather
went unspoken of as he’d been too preoccupied fulfilling his own lackluster
endeavors. He was absent during most of our upbringing. He sailed the seas,
lived on the earth’s bounty drinking his days away, free from all the burdens
of fatherhood and responsibility. But in his defense he’d hadn’t always been
this way. He’d never been the same since my mother died seven years ago. It was
obvious that a piece of him died with her, perhaps more than a piece, more like
half. Most would say the better half.

“James, father has returned!” I shouted, and just as those
few words fled my mouth I saw James dart from around the corner joining me at
the window.

“He’s home!?” He said peering through the foggy frame.
“Shall we meet him?”

“No. I shall meet him. The dock is no place for a ten year
old at this hour.” A look of a pout settled into his expression. “James, no
tears now, we shall return shortly. Tend to the fire and keep yourself warm.”

I grabbed my coat and hurried out into the darkness toward
the docks. At my arrival the port was still. Silence carried over its mass with
only the sound of churning waters and howling winds present. A lone lantern
could be seen hovering, returning from the pier, carried by a shadowy figure
blanketed by the fog.

“Mr. Mayfield!” I shouted as the lantern stopped then
changed direction. The shadowy figure walked toward me and lifted the light to
illuminate itself. Now a grey bearded old man stood before me, his hair long
and straggly, clothes torn and ragged.

“Master Patterson, how do you do?” He said with a toothless
grin.

“Mr. Mayfield have you seen my father?”

His expressions changed suddenly. “Oh, yes. But I’m afraid
he’s no longer here. Sort of left in a hurry he did, him and his men.”

“Where’d they get off to?”

His face sank, like someone looking to hide something or had
spoken out of turn. “Mr. Mayfield, where is my father? It’s late and I shall
see him home.”

“Master Patterson, I-I…“

“Where is he?” I said, sternly, stepping closer to him.

“The brothel master, he went to the brothel! I say plainly,
you know him - booze n’ whores are his fancy.”

“Well I’d say so.” He said in a hurry. “Man smelled of a
brewery he did. Just make sure he doesn’t get himself into too much trouble eh
lad? You know your father maybe a drunkard, but he’s still this town’s finest
fisherman.”

His kind words fell on deaf ears. “I’ll fetch him and see
him home. Thank you Mr. Mayfield.”

I walked through the cold arriving at the tavern. Above the
front door hung a sign all too familiar to me with the caption reading lanageoire
jaune (the yellow fin), and I pushed the door open to enter. The scent of
sex, wine, and cigars filled the air. Sweaty drunken men played cards while
ladies smelling of lavender pranced around in their dainties were a common
sight to see in this house of depravity. I waved to the barkeep in passing, who
gave a nod, as I marched upstairs to my father’s favorite nook in the cathouse.
I swung open the door and there before my eyes laid a nude woman in full view,
breast exposed, mounted on the edge of the sofa. My father, who stood behind her, was
thrusting into her like a mad bull, bottle in one hand, and the other hand pressing down on the small of her back for maximum
penetration.

Upon my entry, the pair quickly looked up, both grasping for
the bed sheets to cover their nether regions. The lady let out a shrill scream
and ran past me down the hallway just as a big smile spread across my father’s
face in recognition.

“Henry my son!” He shouted, releasing the bed sheet he’d
used to cover himself; the bottle still held snug in the other. He was clearly
drunk, lost in the haze of his typical inebriated merriment.

With him now fully exposed I shielded my eyes.

“Father please.” I said as he looked down and grappled the
bed sheet once more.

“Come in, come in lad.” He said walking toward me and
slinging one arm around me, bottle still in hand.

“Would you like a drink?”

“Father, you know I can’t.”

He paused for a minute. “Oh yes, I’d forgotten. The book,
the good book, you are right to follow the Lord so devotedly. My son, a member
of the clergy! Who’ve guessed?!”

I ignored his ramble. “Father I’m here to see you home. You
look weary and I think you should rest.”

He released me from his warm embrace and walked over to the
dresser to sit down the bottle.

He sighed, running his figures through his oily black mane,
looking up at the ceiling.

“Oh, perhaps you’re right lad. I haven’t been feeling like
myself lately I-I.” His focus shifted.

“It’s a bad season. Our first week at sea we had nothing, couldn’t
find the schools for the life of us. The nets were faulty and ragged; it
appears I neglected to replace the bloody things, and the winds- they were
merciless. I didn’t think we’d come home with a catch. But then-“ He said as
his eyes widened.

“I thought of you, your mother, and your brother. You
brought me good fortune. We caught a big catch the next morning, broke us even
in fact. Then afterward we were able to get by on a pocket here and there.”

“Father,” I said grabbing his trousers and tossing them to
him. “We need to go.”

He’d made a fine catch then looked me dead in the eye.

“Don’t look at me that way boy.” He said sliding into his
slacks.

“See my cap do you?”

“Here.” I said tossing it to him as well.

“I just don’t see why after two weeks at sea your first stop
would be the tavern and not your home. And I find you drunk and fornicating
none the less. Father, the whole act is rather unsavory. What am I to tell
James?”

“James? You tell him nothing you here? And in my defense I
was drunk before I left the ship. Oh-
and the lass? Well, weeks at sea with
none other than lads for company can do strange things to a man. Certain needs
go unfulfilled let’s say.”

I shook my head with disapproval, staring down at the floor.
“Gather your things father, we’re leaving.” I said in serious tone as I stepped
toward him.

He pulled his shirt over his head and our gaze met again. He
smiled, his eyes now tearful with melancholy and sentiment. “You have your
mother’s eyes boy. It pains me sometimes to look at you because you remind me
of her so.”

“She loved you father, as do I. Now come, let’s be on our
way.”

“Very well,” He said gathering the last of his things. He
stood up and walked toward the door, staggering briefly. I rushed to his side
to take him by the arm. “Here let me help you.”

“Come now lad,” He said gently nudging me away. “I’m fine. I
just stood up to fast is all.”

We made our way downstairs and out into the cold. The sleek
inky cobblestone road spread out before us. Town lanterns flickered in the darkness,
shimmering off the damp roads surface. Our breaths could visibly be seen in
front of us, flowing onward into the chilled air as we walked home. I stuffed
my hands into my coat and pulled it tightly round me.

“It’s freezing out here.
Haven’t you a scarf, Father?”

“Eh?” He groaned, groping his bare neck. “I must have left
it on the ship.”

“Alright, we’ll grab it in the morning.”

An awkward silence followed as we continued on, the only
sound that could be heard was the clicking of our heels echoing back at us in
rhythmic conversation. I heard my father laugh to himself and I’d asked, “What’s so funny?” in an attempt to break the
tension. He wouldn’t reply, but I won’t lie and say I wasn’t indifferent to his
response. He just continued to keep pace with me; his hands nestled warmly in
his pockets. We were about half way home, nearing the docks, when he suddenly stopped dead in his tracks.

“I need to see her.” He said.

“What?”

“Mary-Linn, I need to see her.”

“Father the ship is fine. We need to get home. James is
waiting for us.”

He started walking quickly toward the harbor in the opposite
direction of our home.

“No! Wait!” I said stepping in front of him, demanding his
attention.

“Get out of the way Henry!” He shouted, moving me aside with
a hand. A sudden gust of wind swept past us as my father suddenly halted,
tilted his head backwards, and an odd
expression crossed his face. He took a deep breath through his nose.

“I smell smoke. Something is burning.”

“What?”

“That gust is coming from the sea.” He said, now running
toward the harbor.

“Wait!” I said. “What are you doing!?” I followed after him.
Then I figured he’d been right. I too smelled smoke. The smell of fire, and as
we ran onward the smell intensified. I could see a yellow glaze just over the
rooftops of several homes that masked the dock. Black smoke rose high over the
lighting and the faint sound of screams could be heard off in the distance.

“The pier is on fire.” He said as we rushed around the final
bend and out to the marina. We’re shaken by what we saw when we arrived. The
Mary-Linn was engulfed in flames.

Thanks for reading. Want to read more?

http://www.amazon.com/Patterson-Reeling-Jackie-Carr/dp/1503554805

Find me on Facebook @ Jackie Carr

Write a Review
Did you enjoy my story? Please let me know what you think by leaving a review! Thanks,
Jackie_Carr

Janaki Sundararaman:
The frame of the story has a beautiful structure on which the narration is spun with twists and turns tolook forward with lots of expectations about the coming chapters.There are many characters in the story line,all woven into intricate style to speak the story in its own way.The protagonist is ...

ernbelle:
When I first started this story I was a little unsettled by all of the information that appears in the prologue, and wasn't sure if I would continue. However, I am very glad I did. The plot was very well thought out and really interesting. There were not any page breaks or markers to acknowledge ...

M.L. Bull:
Hello, Aalia!Your story compelled the emotional pain and struggle of a teenage girl very well.. The imagery was also convincing and well-written, showing the different personalities of your characters and their actions. However, I do think that many of your sentences are too lengthy and could use...

LesAnne:
The blurb alone got me hooked. The story is intriguing and evocative. Despite the few typos, the writing style is effective and unique. Though I disliked stories that jump back and forth, this one I didn't mind. I even found myself looking forward to those 'moments'. I like Grace, her character ...

aeratheninja:
Interestingly enough, this story touches on different psychological states and was very informing, on top of being a solid story. Although somewhat predictable, I thoroughly enjoyed reading this; I could feel the fear and the frustration of the characters, and was happy when they were happy.Even ...

Noelle Anselmo:
Jesus H Christ! When I saw this was a genderbent I though it was just gonna be the two main characters, but I was so wrong and I LOVED IT! I had no clue where you were going with it, and I was waiting for the make up, was dreading the possibility of not making up, and just how you had the story u...

dd1226:
I love reading about other countries and I think this story about Cambodia after Polpot creates awareness of the tragedy that happened there and the actions of the U.N. to hold elections. The heroine of the story is easy to relate to, a modern, middleaged woman looking for an adventure, wanting t...

Sonya YuntHatton:
Are you going to be posting the rest? I read this when originally posted on Fanfiction. LOVE IT!!! Was so glad when it came our as an original book!! And now the MOVIE!!! Holy Mary I am so excited.....But I'm going to HATE, HATE, HATE the wait for part 2. Please let me know if and when you're goi...

Jessie:
I wrote a review on fanfiction but I thought it would be fitting to write on on here too :) This story was honestly stunning. I am a budding writer myself and to read this- to FEEL this- reminded me of why I am honoured to have this passion and drive for a craft that is just so raw and beautiful.

LouiseJ2:
I enjoyed the detail you went into with regards to the case. It made the UNSUB appear believable. The crisis in the middle of the story was my favorite part, very dramatic but not over the top. I feel like sometimes pairings can be overdone but I liked that some of the relationships were a little...